Poem by Jean Blewett (1862-1934)



NOT faultless, for she was not fashioned so,
A mingling of the bitter and the sweet;
Lips that can laugh and sigh and whisper low
Of hope and trust and happiness complete,
Or speak harsh truths; eyes that can flash with fire,
Or make themselves but wells of tenderness
Wherein is drowned all bitterness and ire--
Warm eyes whose lightest glance is a caress.
Heaven sent her here to brighten this old earth,
And only Heaven fully knows her worth.

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Written on 2021-02-08 at 00:01

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